Confessions of a Fangirl
by r0seinmisery
Summary: ALMOST COMPLETE! Everyone has seen an Enjolras fangirls. The imaginary person, Catherine Patterson, takes the fan worship to a new level. Read her diary.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note- This is my first fan fiction. I'm not a good writer- I already know that. I want as much constructive criticism as possible. I'd really like to improve my writing skills. Basically, this is a modern day girl who takes fan girling to the next level. For those of you who don't know, John-Andrew Clark is the current Enjolras on the US tour. Hopefully, you'll enjoy the story. This fic has utterly no point. You have been warned.

January 20, 2005

Dear Diary,

I didn't think I would ever write a diary. For most of my life, I thought I'd leave that to intelligent people, like Anne Frank. My friends recommended that I try it. They think I need a place to put all of my fantasies, most of them about Enjolras. They always try to tell me that Les Miserables isn't real. How can Les Miz not exist? What are they talking about?

Enjolras is my dream guy. Nothing is more attractive than a man jumping on a table an making chapter long speeches! I've made it my purpose in life to marry him, or something. People don't believe I can do it. They say something about him not existing. Well, if he doesn't exist, I guess I'll marry an actor who played him.

I tried out for the 3 national tour of Les Miserables last summer. I went in there, hoping that I wouldn't break anyone's ear. I wanted to meet a potential Enjolras. I can't sing, and didn't expect that I would even get to try out. Hey, a girl can dream, can't she?

It was a cattle call audition, but the directors wanted to see all the equity actors first. I was so nervous when they finally called me in to try out. I sang sixteen bars of "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera. They actuallyput earplugs on. Sure, it wasn't on par with Sarah Brightman's performance, but it wasn't dreadful! They asked me why I was trying out. I answered "To meet John-Andrew Clark! Why else would I try out? Did you think I actually wanted a job or something?"

I won't be performing on the tour anytime soon.

C'est la vie… I'll have plenty of other opportunities to meet some Enjolratti. Hopefully, the meetings will go much better than they did with Christopher Mark Peterson. Last time I saw him, he mentioned something about a restraining order. I just can't understand that. I didn't stalk him. I will admit that I followed him into his hotel room and hid under his bed for an hour, but that really isn't stalking! Some people are so thick headed.

Well, I must go listen to a recording a Les Miserables now. I need an Enjolras fix for the night. Maybe later, I'll create another entry. I swear to be a faithful diary writer. Here's to many more days of Enjolras Worship!

Catherine Patterson

_Does anyone actually want to read more tales of a crazed stalker? Should I continue?_


	2. January 22, 2005

**January 22, 2005**

Today will be a dream, I'm sure. The tour is finally coming to Wisconsin. The beautiful musical that captured my soul will be a mere thirty minute drive away. Why would anything so amazing set foot in this awful dairy farm state? Why would the fearless leader want to waste his time here? Enjolras should be off barricading the white house.

My boyfriend Tom has volunteered to take me. Tom is a nice guy, but he isn't Enjolras. He can't speak in front of a crowd, and would never jump on a table either. Jumping on tables is a "hazard to his health". According to Tom, he'd fall of the table and break his nose. The broken nose will also start to bleed and he'll lose blood, a lot of blood. Eventually, he'll die from the broken nose.

… And people wonder why I'd choose Enjolras over him.

I've concocted a plan that will make Enjolras, alias John-Andrew Clark, fall madly in love with me. First, I will show him my incredible knowledge of the government. Then, I will suggest building a barricade in Washington, DC. We will fight the United States Army and throw George Bush out of the white house. Once that is done, I'll change my name to Patria and we will live happily ever after. The plan is fool proof.

By this time next year, I will no longer be Catherine Patterson. I'll be Madame Catherine Enjolras. That will show Tom, who is convinced that Enjolras isn't real.

**Later that night**

Excitement is consuming me. Master of the House has finally ended. Soon, "Paris 10 Years Later" will appear on the screen. How much longer till I can see my beloved? Oh! I can't breathe any more. Asthma always gets the best of me when I see Enjy.

**Later, by the stage door**

I've been betrayed. Enjolras isn't the man I thought he would be. Tom is trying to comfort me, telling me that John-Andrew is just an actor. I'm convinced he really is Enjolras. Maybe Grantaire, alias Trent Blanton, has forced absinthe down his throat.

First, I went up to Enjy and asked for an autograph. I began to use my barricade plan to impress him. It went somewhat like this:

"George W. Bush must be rebelled against! He is oppressing the lower classes! We must fight for them, so they can rise above poverty. There must be an American Republic!"

My speech sounded inspirational to me. Enjy gave me a strange look.

"There _is _an American republic. Have you ever heard the Pledge of Allegiance? There's a line that goes like this- And to the republic. Does that ring a bell?" He said, trying to be nice.

"Alright, so there's already a republic. We must still rebel against the tyrant president!" I argued, hoping Enjy would agree with me.

"I'm a republican. I voted for Bush. He's one of my idols." There was an awkward pause.

"Stop bothering him! He might call the cops like he did last time, when you tried to push him into a closet with you. You can't get arrested! I forgot to bring the bail money," Tom hissed, pulling me away from the love of my life.

Woe. Betrayal. More woe. Even more holy freaking woe. Enjolras must hate me now. I have nothing to live for. He doesn't love me. I think I may die. DIE.

Catherine Patterson


	3. January 30, 2005

**January 30, 2005**

I can't believe that in a mere seven hours I'll be in Paris. The sooner I get there, the closer I'll be to my true love. It wasn't easy to get the money for the trip. It involved a few attempted bank robberies and a couple of weeks in jail. It was all worth it. Whenever I was inside my dark cell, I thought of Enjolras and felt better.

My mother didn't seem to take the robbery attempt lightly. She said I was crazy. I can't believe that! How on earth am I crazy? I am just the average girl in love. She tried to forbid me to ever see any Les Miserables related again. My own mother tried to deprive me of the only good thing in life.

I just couldn't let her do that. My life would just end. Without Enjolras, I would die. According to my mother and Tom, if I try to rig an ATM again they'll kill me. Either way, I'm going to die.

Mother dearest then told me she wanted me to see a shrink. I don't think I need any psychologist. Tom told me that my obsession over a false person is hazardous to my health. They are both wrong. I'm going to France right now, and Enjolras will be waiting me the minute I get off the plane.

The fact that he died around 1832 is only a minor technicality. I can always have a séance!

So much has changed since I last wrote in this diary. For one thing, I'm not longer Catherine Patterson. The name was too boring, and Enjolras wouldn't notice me. Thus, Project Patria began. The first step of the project was getting a new name. The only thing Enjolras loved was his Patria, which is why I chose that as my new first name. Since my new legal name is Patria, Enjy will have to love me. I wish I could change my last name to something French. My mother claimed she would disown if I did.

It's really awful to be devoted to a revolutionary when you have a filthy bourgeois mother.

Part two of "Project Patria" was to go to France to look for my love. My ATM rigging was finally successful and did not result in an arrest. I got the money and jumped on the next plane to find my man. Enjolras will come home with me and we will continue to fight for an American republic. The fact that there is one already is completely irrelevant. We can overthrow the Bush Administration if the first plan fails.

Approximately seven hours, forty five minutes, and 45.66669 seconds until I see my beloved. Oh gosh, where is my inhaler? I'm beginning to sense an asthma attack!

Patria Patterson


	4. February 1, 2005

**February 1, 2005**

This France trip wasn't a very good idea. There were a few minor technicalities I forgot to account for. I have absolutely no money. The money I "borrowed" from the bank only covered my plane tickets. But I'll be fine. I'll sleep on the street for tonight. Just knowing that Enjolras is near will keep me warm. Now, there's an even bigger problem. I can't speak French.

At first, I spoke to a few people. I added an o to the end of every word. I said "I-o come-o from-o America-o". They looked at me like I was insane. Then, I remembered. To speak Spanish you need to add an o to every word. I had my languages confused.

It's getting late, and I should go to sleep. The cold streets of Paris shouldn't be very hard to brave. Eponine survived the streets. According to the people and Enjolras was in love with Eponine. This will only make me more attractive to my beloved!

Hopefully I won't be raped or murdered. I sound a lot like Tom now. I must be going crazy. The streets will be fine. If they aren't, I'm sure Enjolras will save me. Right?

**Later**

Enjolras hasn't come. I'm starting to wonder if he made a wrong turn onto another street.

**A Little Later**

Still no Enjolras. Doesn't he realize that he needs to save me? Is Enjy too busy sleeping with Grantaire to help me?

If he doesn't come here soon, I'm coming home. I'll just wire another ATM for another plane ticket. The only problem is all the ATMs here are in French. Why didn't I just pay attention to Madame Harkless and do well in French class? This is a very good time to start banging my head against the wall.

The not very happy Patria Patterson


	5. February 5, 2005

_Author's Note- There's some sarcasm about here. Don't take it personally! It's meant as a joke. I really appreciate all the good feedback and I want to leave some people reviews. I can't figure out how. Can anyone explain how? Por Favor?_

**February 5, 2005**

I am slowly, but surely, beginning to learn the French language. If I learn a new word everyday, I'll know the entire language in about ten years. I think that will work out quite well. The word for today was "Bonjour". I had a conversation with a French man today.

French Person: A bunch of words I can't understand.  
Me: Bonjour  
French Person: Even more words I don't know.  
Me: Bonjour  
French Person: I don't know what he's saying…  
Me: Bonjour

It's an improvement from my Spanish speaking. I have learned the hard way that the O method is not fool-proof.

Enjolras has not come to save me yet. I've been sleeping in my special alleyway for a few days. What's his holdup? I've seen no work to overthrow the President and ensure American democracy. I haven't even seen work to create a French Republic! What's happened to Les Amis?

Maybe they're just on fan fiction dot net too much. It's a bad influence on them. They must think that they should be making smut, not revolution. How sad.

A drunkard was flirting with me before. I'm sure we could have had an engaging conversation if I knew what he was saying. Maybe he could help me find my beloved. For all I know, he can be Grantaire!

I'm not completely sure I want Grantaire hitting on me. I won't have anything to do with Enjolras' former love. Grantaire should back off now, or I'll kick him all the way to Poland.

That's it! Enjolras must be in Poland! Feuilly must have dragged him there! I'm astounded by my brilliance. My revised to do list includes robbing a few French banks and finding a way to get to Poland.

This plan is perfect. There's no way it won't work.


	6. March 29, 2005

**_I am so very sorry for disregarding this fic. I have decided to continue and update much more. My apologies for waiting so long to start writing._**

Dear Diary,

Poland didn't quite work out. Security at the airport apparently found the knife I was planning to use on Eponine. I can't have that little gamine attacking my beloved. Who does she think she is anyway? For goodness sake, she has no teeth! Enjolras deserves someone like me, who is superior hygiene wise. Also, I'm not a mental stalker like she is. People like Eponine are so infuriating! When she can't get Marius, she has to attack Montparnasse. When that doesn't work, she follows my love around. I hope she burns with the rest of the Mary Sues, but I digress…

Returning to my airport story, I told the guards it was reserved for Eponine, they didn't believe me. They said that there was no way to stab a fictional character. They also made it clear that it didn't matter who the knife was intended for. It was still a threat and I would have to be kept under surveillance. At least I think they said that. Must I stress that to me French sounds like gibberish? Thank goodness for websites like Babblefish. Online translators are so reliable.

I'm considered a dangerous person now. I was shipped back to the United States. I have to sit in a little room all day with cameras. It's almost like I've been put into an asylum. I can't imagine why I would need to be. After all, I'm as normal as it gets. Since I have no access to the outside world, all I can do is pine for my love.

I have it all planned out now. When Enjolras finally finds me, I will teach him about true culture. He will be exposed to the classic songs of this era, such as "Who Let the Dogs Out." Then, I will bring him along to a high class event such as a football game. Together, we will cheer on whichever team supports an American republic more. Tom will not be involved, simply because he will have come down with a rare unknown disease.

Enjolras and I will have matching outfits, because that is what all couples who are deeply in love own. Tom promised that when he gets over his deathly case of the sniffles he will go on ebay and bid non stop. They are selling props from the play dedicated to the life of Enjolras. With his bids, I'll be sure to get a red vest.

I'm just having second thoughts. What if Enjolras finds someone more worthwhile than I? I know that there are few people better than me, but it could happen. I just worry that Enjolras might have more chemistry with Jehan than with me. After all, what is more attractive than a poet that can't match his clothes? Well, Enjolras is much more attractive, so he doesn't count! What if Enjolras really does fall to Grantaire's charm and try some absinthe? The absinthe will corrupt the pure Enjolras and Grantaire will seduce my fearless leader.

Then there's Eponine. My hands are shaking, as is my handwriting. The public just seems to support their love with vigor. For goodness sakes, Eponine has lice in her hair. Is that all Enjolras is worth? I cannot believe Eponine fangirls would minimize the importance and charm of my beloved in such a way.

Woe has overcome me. I feel the need to cry. I have lost Enjolras to either a drunk or a gamine with lice. My life will cease. If I have a say in things, the Eponine fangirls will cease with me.


	7. April 7, 2005

The asylum is really nice once you get used to it. I mean, once you disregard the fact that you're stuck in a windowless room without access to the outside world, you really start to like it! There isn't much to do here. To pass time, I've been counting all the little dots on the ceiling. When I'm finished with the ceiling, I'll count the dots on the floor.

I've spoken to my fellow asylum members. Some people are there for trying to free all the kangaroos from the zoo. That's a little cliché, isn't it? Another man claims he can talk to animals. That's just a huge copy of Doctor Doolittle. I pride myself in my originality. No one else is here for the attempted murder of a fictional character.

I'm going to reread Les Miserables in my spare time. I managed to sneak it into the asylum. I carry the book with me at all times. I've developed a large amount of arm strength from carrying the Brick with me every moment of the day. As I was saying, I'm partially rereading Les Miserables, but only the parts with Enjolras.

Those passages are like a bible to me. It just inspires me so much. Whenever I read it, I just become more convinced that Enjolras is planning a new revolution that will defy the boundary between reality and fantasy. According to my psychologist, the boundary can't be broken and I will never get to meet Enjolras. I'll put my faith in the fearless leader instead of the crazy doctor. Whether he is fictional or not, Enjy is my one true love.

I'm getting bored with my new name. Patria Patterson doesn't have a nice ring to it. I'm sure Enjolras will want his wife to have a beautiful name. I think Marie Suzette suits me much more. It's a much prettier name.

Patria


	8. April 15, 2005

_**(A/N: Wow! I can't believe this story now has seventy reviews. Lesmisloony, I would be honored if this was added to your C2 community. Enjoy this chapter and the triumphant return of our very own Joly wannabe- Tom!)**_

April 15, 2005

Tom came to visit me today. I'm usually not very enthusiastic about his visits. Today was no exception. I couldn't wait until he left me alone. Why can't this sad creature get the message? My relationship with him is just to make Enjolras jealous. Enjolras will one day be so in love with me that he can't bear to see me with someone else. He will then break his grudge against woman and give me a nice big hug! Tom is just a device to make me even more attractive to my fearless leader.

Tom was in the hospital last night. He claims he had appendicitis and was in pain for hours. The doctor's verdict was different. He told Tom he just had a little bit of gas and should have just taken some Pepto Bismol. My hypochondriac of a boyfriend still thinks his appendix should have been removed. It might be hazardous to his health. God forbid Tom sneezes or has itchy eyes. That might be the cause of his death!

Apparently, Tom likes to receive flowers or chocolates upon his return home from the hospital. I told him I didn't have anything for him. That seemed to have hurt him greatly. What was I supposed to do? I'm locked inside of a windowless room with no access to the outside world. I'm stuck inside with the girl who freed the kangaroos from the zoo. Unless I break out of the asylum, there's no way for me to buy anything.

I really need to break up with Tom. He's always developing a disease. Well, he thinks he's developing one. I don't even want to imagine what Tom must be like when he really is sick!

Last entry I mentioned that I'm reading Les Miserables again. I decided that it's time to read more than the passages concerning Enjolras. Maybe it's time to learn about the minor characters such as Sister Simplice, Azelma, and Jean Valjean. I'm halfway through the Fantine section. That Inspector Javert seems like a mighty fine fellow. I have always been attracted to sideburns…

Patria Suzette

(That is my brand new name! Patterson sounded to American for my taste. Suzette sounds a bit more French. Therefore, Enjolras will love it!)


End file.
